We Have To Stop Meeting Like This
by C0ldSteel
Summary: Someone's in the closet, and probably not who you think. Slash. Starts up T and humorous; gets M and angsty later.
1. In the Closet

My other dS story is on the rocks at the moment, so I'll try something completely different.

Warning: Slash. If you don't like it, no one's forcing you to read it.

Spoiler alert: If you've seen only seasons 1 and 2, you might want to find at least 3 before reading this. The whole series is recommended, and not just so you'll understand this story. ^_-

* * *

We Have To Stop Meeting Like This

A due South story. I don't own this show or anything affiliated with it. If I did, I'd have revived it by now.

* * *

One: In the Closet

Ray paused by the supply closet and looked up and down the hall. No one was paying him any attention. He knocked on the closet door twice. The same knock answered him and he ducked inside.

"We have to stop meeting like this," a teasing voice said.

Ray smiled and pulled the other man close, nuzzling his neck. "Oh, yeah? How and where do you suggest we meet?"

"How about your place?" the other asked before kissing Ray's temple.

"Are you nuts? What about your place?" He grasped the door with one hand to make sure it couldn't be opened easily.

"We could, I guess."

Ray found his lips and they kissed passionately.

Someone tugged on the door.

"Cheese it," Ray hissed, and they moved apart. He released the door.

Fraser stood outside. "Ah. There you are." He looked at the door itself. "The door seems to have been stuck. I take it you're discussing the Walker case."

"That's right, Benny," Ray said.

Diefenbaker, ever at Fraser's heels, tilted his head to one side as if not convinced.

"Mind if we join you?"

Ray shook his head. "Three in a closet... I dunno. I mean, you, me and the wolf is one thing, but you, me, Kowalski and the wolf is something else."

"Right you are. Shall we go somewhere more spacious?"

"More spacious, less private."

"True. Very well. I'll leave you to it. Be sure to fill me in on any revelations." He closed the door.

"How'd you do that?" Ray Kowalski asked.

"I've known him longer," Ray answered. "You can't try to make things make sense. They just have to make sense to _him_."

"Hm. Well, where were we?"

"Right about here, I think."

They made out a little longer before Ray asked, "So, were you serious?"

"About what?"

"Going to your place?"

"Um... we could."

"'Cause I don't want you to feel like we have to. A man's home is his castle, after all."

"No, it's okay. It's kinda messy, though."

"I don't give a damn."

"Okay... just... we can't let anyone see us."

"Sure, but if they did, they'd just think we were working on case stuff."

"But if Fraser does, he'll think we're working on case stuff _without him._ He'll get that sad puppy look."

"Yeah, you're right. So, we'll be careful." He trailed a hand down Kowalski's chest. "We should spar sometime."

"Yeah? I didn't know you boxed."

"Well, not professionally. Just for the hell of it. You?"

"Same. I like to think I could have done it, but... other stuff happened. Ever spar with Fraser?"

"Ha! No, and I'd rather not."

"Wise decision."

Ray gasped quietly as Kowalski boldly licked up his jawline. "Man, I'll be glad to get you someplace bigger than a closet."

A youthful laugh answered him. "Sounds almost like a threat."

"Take it however you want." Ray pressed his leg against Kowalski's.

This time Kowalski gasped. "Shit, I think we'd better stop."

Ray chuckled quietly. "Yeah, you're probably right." He kissed him once more. "See you after work?"

"Uhuh."

"Okay. Oh, and FYI: you'd turn me on more if you'd wear a suit now and then."

"God, now I wanna see you in a T-shirt and jeans."

"Pfft. In your dreams."

"You might be right. I dreamed about you the other night."

"I'm flattered. Now, shut up; I'm going out. Wait a minute before you follow."

"I know the drill."

Ray exited the closet and straightened his jacket before heading back to the bullpen.

Fraser had waited for him at his desk. "So?" he asked. "Any developments?"

 _Oh, hell, lots..._ "Not really."

"Where's Ray?"

"He'll be along in a minute. We should get lunch. You hungry?"

Dief barked and wagged his fluffy tail.

"I think we could both eat," Fraser answered.

Soon, the three of them—four, including the wolf—were packed into the Riviera and looking for a diner.

 _Just friends getting lunch,_ Ray thought, smiling to himself. _Nothing to see here._

* * *

End note: So, I'm a little nervous about how fans will react to this. Again, if you don't like slash, this one wasn't for you. But even if you do, you might be wondering why I went with this pairing. Well... because I hadn't seen it done before and I wanted to try it. Sue me. Actually, please don't. I can't afford it. But if you have anything encouraging to say, please leave a review. I await your reactions with much proverbial nail-biting.


	2. The First Time

A/N: I was worried about how people would react, but my view counter said zero for several days, so I guess I shouldn't have worried! I'm concluding that this is a pretty dead fandom, and that's sad, because it was an amazing show.

* * *

Two: The First Time

Ray started some coffee brewing when he got home, knowing Vecchio would take his time following. He was nervous about his superior coming to his home, even in an unofficial capacity. Maybe _especially_ in an unofficial capacity.

He wondered if he should shower or change clothes. He probably wouldn't have time for the shower. Why change? This wasn't exactly a relationship. If he put work into it, they'd have to define it.

 _But we should probably do that anyway..._

When he and Fraser had come back from Canada on a wave of charisma fueled by a successful adventure, things had changed between him and Vecchio. He was a good enough detective to figure out that Vecchio had tried to start something with Stella, but it had fizzled out pretty quickly. That was good—it would have made working for and with him almost impossible. But now, he seemed to be taking a break from the dating game, and for a week or so, he'd been irritable as hell.

Vecchio went through a period of finding nothing but fault with Ray's work, accusing him of causing every minor screw-up, and criticizing everything from his policing style to his clothes. Then had come the night of the mountain of paperwork...

Said mountain was a result of an overabundance of potential witnesses in their latest case. They'd had to take statements from dozens of people, and by the time that was done, the police station was emptying out as detectives went home for the night. Even Welsh had gone home, leaving the two Rays to type up, print and file their notes.

Vecchio's usual criticisms continued after they were alone, and when Ray snapped, a shouting match ensued.

"What is it?" Ray demanded. "What the hell is it about me that you can't stand so much?"

"Your face!" Vecchio said loudly.

Ray leaned over Vecchio's desk. "If I wear a freaking ski mask, will you leave me the hell alone?!"

Vecchio got to his feet. "Just do your damn job, Kowalski—like the rest of us!"

"Is this because I was gone a few weeks in the Yukon? Couldn't handle the workload? Or is it because you wish it had been you up there? Can't stand that your friend made another friend while you were away?"

"Leave the Mountie out of it!"

"Out of _what,_ for god's sake?! What is wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with _you?!"_

Undoubtedly a janitor or someone had heard them, but everyone who worked in the building had learned not to get involved in their spats, and from the sound of this one, there probably wasn't a citizen in all of Chicago who would have cared to get close to it (with the possible exception of Fraser).

"I asked you first," Ray snapped. The argument was getting tiring, and he was frustrated to the extreme because he didn't even know what they were fighting about.

"You're my problem! You weren't here when I left, you shouldn't have been here when I got back. The twenty-seventh doesn't need two Ray Vecchios. So, go home!"

"Pardon me for keeping you alive for a year! If I go home, all you get is all this paperwork to finish yourself, and I'll be right back here tomorrow morning... _sir."_

Vecchio swung at him, but he managed to dodge. "You stupid pain in the ass!"

"I have as much right to be here as you do."

"The hell you do!"

"I've been trying to work just as hard and just as well as I did before you came back..."

"Well, you must have been a total incompetent, then!"

Ray leaned closer to Vecchio's face again. "I'm sorry you feel like I screwed up your life, but you can't ask me to do better than my best, all right?!"

That was about when Vecchio had kissed him. He wasn't sure exactly what triggered it, but on a physical level it made sense to him at the time. Words had gotten them nowhere; it was definitely time to try something else, before one of them really landed a punch next time. He'd ended up kissing back, surprising himself.

After a few seconds, when they came apart, Vecchio put his hand to Ray's face, laying his thumb over his mouth. "Don't say anything," he said. "That never happened."

Deciding it was probably for the best, Ray nodded silently.

"Get back to work." Vecchio pushed him away with a gentle pat on his chest.

Feeling a little fuzzy-headed, Ray had gone back to his desk, back to work. He knew he wouldn't be able to pretend it hadn't happened, but at least he could be sure it wouldn't happen again.

It happened again the next day.

* * *

I'm probably writing this strictly for my own amusement, but if you find it entertaining, please let me know.


	3. Getting Lunch

A/N: So, _someone_ is reading the story, and if they want to remain anonymous, that's ok, but I'd still like to hear from you. ^_-

* * *

Three: Getting Lunch

Ray Vecchio, normally cool and collected, found himself a little nervous as he drove toward Ray Kowalski's apartment for the first time. He couldn't decide whether or not to take a "go big or go home" approach. Maybe he should just keep things at the usual level and see what Kowalski did.

He remembered how unnerved he had been the day after their first kiss. Concentration had taken a massive effort, and when lunchtime came around, he felt like he was getting nowhere with his case.

"Kowalski," he said, not even glancing across the room at the other detective.

"Yeah?" the other asked after a moment.

"I need to get my eyes on something other than mug shots and rap sheets for a while. Let's get some lunch."

"Uh... Okay..."

"I'm just gonna call Fraser at the consulate. Wait for me at the Riv."

"'Kay." Kowalski got his jacket and left the bullpen.

Once he was gone, Ray made his call.

"Ray," Fraser's upbeat voice said. "I've just finished my shift."

"That's great, Benny. Kowalski and I are gonna be out of the office for a little while, though, so wait forty-five minutes or so before you head over, all right?"

"Would you rather I met you somewhere else?"

"No, it's fine. We'll see you at the station."

"All right. I'll see you later, then."

Ray hung up the phone and got his jacket. As he started out of the bullpen, he saw Francesca watching him. "What?" he asked.

"You're going somewhere with Other-Ray, and you're not taking Fraser?"

"So?"

"Planning to kill him?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I am not planning to kill him."

"'Cause I heard you had a doozy of a fight yesterday."

"Eh, we let off a lot of steam that way. It's better now. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Shouldn't you say _'We'll_ be back in an hour or so'?!" she called after him.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving without turning around.

* * *

He took Kowalski to a bar and grill that he knew Fraser was unlikely to go to. They didn't talk on the drive there. They barely talked while they ate, restricting their comments to the football game playing on the TV in the corner. Kowalski seemed nervously subdued.

Finally, Ray asked, "You done?" Getting a nod, he put some money on the counter and led the way back outside.

The outdoors seemed too bright after the dim restaurant. Ray put on a pair of sunglasses before starting the car again. He drove back toward the police station, but then took a couple of turns, drove them into a blind alley and parked.

Ray thought it only fair to take off his sunglasses so Kowalski could see his sincerity. Looking over at him, he thought Kowalski looked twice as nervous now. "Relax," he said. "I didn't bring you here to kill you."

"Well, that's a relief," Kowalski muttered.

"I wanted to tell you that even though I told you to pretend it never happened, I understand if you can't do that." There was no need to specify what "it" was. "I was way out of line."

Kowalski stared straight ahead. "It's fine," he said, barely opening his mouth to speak.

"No, it's not. Welsh could have my badge for something like that."

"Well, he won't hear it from me. Besides... I kissed you back." He hadn't looked up once. It was dark in the alley, but he seemed to be blushing a little.

"Still... I'm technically your superior now, and I started it. It's my responsibility."

"I don't care about all that, so you can forget it. I'm not going to report you."

Ray suspected he might not think the chance at revenge worth the embarrassment. "What _do_ you care about?" he asked.

They were silent a long time before Kowalski answered, "I guess I just wanna know... why? Why did you do it?"

Ray sighed. "I've been wondering that myself since last night. A shrink would say the obvious explanation is that my love life is going nowhere and anytime my blood gets pumping it reminds me how desperate I am..." he laughed a little, but Kowalski didn't seem amused. "But yeah, that's not it. I think it's partly Langoustini's fault."

"Langoustini? Wait, you mean the guy you were impersonating? How was it his fault?"

"That's kind of a long story." He checked his watch. "But we got a little time if you're game."

Kowalski blew out a slow breath. "Okay."

Ray leaned back in his seat, tracing his undercover work back in his mind, trying to decide which details were safe to tell. He wanted to keep his explanation as brief as possible.

* * *

 _I think I've got the rhythm down now—one chapter RayV's POV, one chapter RayK's POV. I have a rough idea of where I'm going with it. Might make chapters longer after a while, but I'm trying not to get too ambitious.  
_


	4. Explanations

**A/N:** Here follows my answer to my first review; feel free to skip to the break where the story continues!

 _ **Kristi:**_ _You make interesting points and seem to have a unique perspective about the name situation. For this story, I've chosen the "third-person, limited" approach. This means that we're limited to whatever the main character sees and knows, but he is not telling the story. In this case, the narrator may choose to call RayV "Vecchio" in a RayK chapter, even though RayK may think of him as something else in his head. The narrator is viewing the story through a Ray-lens but presenting it to the reader in the clearest way possible. This isn't necessarily the textbook 3rd-P limited method, but that's what I've decided to go with. I don't know if you reviewed this or my other dS story first, but either way I think Fraser's friendship with RayV might be a little more to your liking in this one, so I hope you keep reading. Thanks!_

* * *

Four: Explanations

Ray couldn't remember feeling more awkward than he had in Vecchio's car that day, but he had wanted to know the reason behind the kiss, so he waited as patiently as he could, trying not to fidget.

"I had to memorize a lot of stuff really fast," Vecchio said finally. "Tons of names. Background. Places. Habits. One of the things they told me about Langoustini was that he liked a steady stream of women. I'm lucky I wasn't in a serious relationship when they called me up, or that would have made it way harder for a lot of reasons. But before I'd been at it long, I found out he didn't just like women. There was the occasional guy, too. That took me by surprise and I almost blew my cover."

Ray's eyebrows shot up. "Wow... geez... what happened?"

"That's not important. The point is, I had to get used to... some stuff. The good thing was, I didn't have to go too far. I was always controlling the situation, so I could cut it off when I thought I'd gone far enough to be convincing. I systematically dumped all of his male regulars, and that way the most I had to do was tease someone now and then or use my new skills to intimidate."

"Is that what you were doing? Trying to intimidate me?"

"Kind of, I guess. Sometimes if some punk was trying to piss me off, I could surprise him with a stunt like that and the pure shock value would shut him up. Then he'd be too embarrassed to say anything else. It was pretty effective."

"Huh."

"But, uh... it's a really shitty thing to do to a colleague." Vecchio sighed. "I had no right."

"Don't worry about it." Ray was fidgeting, in spite of his efforts not to.

"You're just going to let it go?"

He shrugged. "It sounds like you didn't really think it through beforehand... it was kind of a defensive reaction. Shit happens."

"Okay... so, why did you kiss me back?"

More fidgeting. Lots of fidgeting. All the fidgeting.

"Look, it's all right. You heard me out, I'll hear you out. And if you want, we don't have to talk about it ever again."

Ray leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. "I guess it's a long story for me, too."

"So, we'll be a little late getting back. It's fine."

"Well... when you first came back, it was like you said: like I died before I got everything done. I saw the way you operated, how confident you seemed, and I started thinking there was no way in hell I'd lived up to your standards."

"As a detective?"

"That, and as Fraser's friend and partner. Not to mention you wouldn't shut up about the clothes. I get it. You've got some nice suits. But Huey told me about the wild stuff you used to wear. He said he wouldn't be caught dead in it. So, you weren't always a slick dresser. And what's wrong with dressing casual now and then?"

"Nothing... if you've got no self-respect."

Ray rolled his eyes.

"Sorry. You're right. It's okay to relax now and then. As for the stuff I used to wear, it was a very narrow niche. An acquired taste that not everyone could appreciate."

"Uh-huh... well, you couldn't expect me to pull off a wardrobe like that, right?"

"True."

"Anyway, you were so... tough. So superior and confident. I felt like I got the rug pulled out from under me." He glanced over at Vecchio and thought he looked confused. "What?"

"Trying to see where this is going... do you always kiss people who make you feel insecure?"

"No!" Ray paused, reflecting. "Well... actually... Well, that's not the point. The point is, Fraser and I took that trip, and I got some of my confidence back, but then we came back here and had to figure out how our team would work, and every day I've just felt like every tiny thing is a battle. I didn't hate you or anything; I just wanted things to work. Because if I can't work with Fraser... I mean, I can't go back to my old precinct. I don't think I could be a cop anymore. That probably sounds stupid..."

Vecchio shook his head. "You don't think the same after you work with Fraser. I missed him as bad as I missed my family when I was in Vegas. Hell, I think I missed him more. Going back to the way you used to work... not an option."

"Right." Ray was relieved. It seemed like he was getting through. "So, anyway, the fact of the thing is that I actually... I was jealous of you. I wished I'd known Fraser first. Wished I had a family like yours. Some of your experience. Just a little of your confidence. It kinda sucked to be me."

"And when I kissed you..."

"I guess it was like... the unattainable thing was happening. Like I thought on some level you were..." He swallowed. "I don't know... giving me value for the first time."

They were silent for several seconds. The car had become uncomfortably warm. Vecchio put his window down a few inches, saying, "Well, I feel like an even bigger jerk than I did five minutes ago..."

Another few seconds passed. Again, Vecchio broke the silence. "I guess we've got some stuff to work on... you getting a little self-confidence and me treating you like a human being."

Ray half-smiled. "That would be nice." The tension seemed to be easing a little.

Then he realized Vecchio was staring at him. He stared back. Now that he thought about it, Vecchio had some sort of... _je ne sais quoi_ about him. He _was_ a slick dresser. He was Italian. The short haircut popular with men with receding hairlines worked surprisingly well for him. And then, of course, there was the attitude. That was growing on him by the minute. In fact... he almost wouldn't mind kissing him just for the hell of it, even without the aspiration to be like him.

Vecchio's eyes seemed to flick around over Ray's face. "I was just wondering..."

Ray held his breath.

"... Did you like it?"

* * *

 _Overly dramatic cliff-hanger. You're welcome.  
_


	5. Working Relationship

_I realized I put RayV back together with his Riviera with no explanation as to how he got yet another one... oh well. He got another one. That's the explanation. lol_

* * *

Five: Working Relationship

Kowalski looked away from him. Ray thought his breath had quickened slightly. "It... it was..." he said slowly. He swallowed. "Yeah. It wasn't bad."

Ray felt the corner of his mouth trying to tug up into a smile. "I thought you kissed pretty good for a straight guy."

Kowalski blushed. "Gee, thanks," he muttered.

"One thing I learned from all that undercover crap: when you need something, you don't care much where it comes from."

He nodded a little, still looking embarrassed.

"You're not seeing anyone right now, are you?"

He shook his head.

"Me neither." Ray started the car. "So, you know... if you feel like you wanna try again—on equal terms, this time—just let me know."

He put the Riviera in reverse, put his arm across the back of the passenger seat and looked through the back window. His foot didn't leave the brake.

Kowalski was kissing him.

He brought his arm back up and worked his fingers into Kowalski's hair. He seemed eager enough, so Ray tried running his tongue over Kowalski's lips. Granted entrance, he worked his way inside, closing his eyes. _Oh, yeah. Not bad at all._

They came apart and he smiled at Kowalski, who was panting and still looking a touch shamefaced, but also smiling.

"You okay?"

He nodded shakily.

Ray's smile widened. "Okay." He looked out the back window again and backed them out to the street.

* * *

It got a little hard to concentrate at work after that. Ray kept catching Kowalski's eye. They would smile and look away. This was bad. Someone was going to notice and ask what the joke was. At the very least, they were going to notice the lack of fighting. But Ray suddenly found it hard to find fault with Kowalski anymore.

He finally wrote out a note which he took to Kowalski's desk. "Get this done for me, okay?" he said, handing him the sheet of paper.

Kowalski glanced at it. It said, _We can't act like we get along. Start something._ "Do it yourself," he snapped. "What am I? Your secretary?"

Ray had to fight a smile at his colleague's quick reaction. "You're whatever the hell I tell you to be," he retorted. "I'm tired of your attitude!"

"Vecchio?"

Ray looked up and saw Welsh at his office door. "Sir?"

"Far be it from me to interrupt the vital conference you two are having, but do you think you could berate your detective a little more quietly?"

"We were just finished, sir."

"Thank you."

He gave Kowalski a convincing glare and returned to his own desk. It seemed like this was going to work.

Fraser came to the station with Diefenbaker a few minutes later. He greeted both of them and pulled a chair between their desks.

"Fraser, you don't have to do that," Kowalski told him.

"Do what?" Fraser asked.

"Plant yourself exactly the same distance from each of us. If you wanna look at what he's working on, go sit by him. If you wanna see what I'm doing, come over here."

"He's a Mountie," said Ray. "They don't take sides."

"It's not taking sides. And you're kind of in the way there."

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry." Fraser began dragging the chair back toward Ray's side of the room. Diefenbaker seemed to mirror him, padding over to Kowalski's desk.

"Eh, don't listen to him, Benny," Ray said. "You sit wherever you want."

"He makes a good point, though."

"Whatever."

He heard Kowalski sigh and mimic, "Whatever." He petted Dief.

Fraser cleared his throat. "So, what are you working on?"

Ray explained the project in front of him, almost annoyed at how quickly Fraser understood everything and began pointing out ways he could cut down his workload.

A little later, Fraser dragged his chair back across the room and did the same routine for Kowalski while Dief crossed over to Ray's desk. Now that he wasn't eternally irritated with the other detective, Ray realized how silly their working relationship seemed. They were like divorced parents sending their child with messages because they weren't speaking to each other. They probably would have solved their current case by now if they'd been getting along. And poor Fraser was the one really suffering, having to divide his time between his friends instead of sharing it with both of them. Ray petted Dief.

"Ray's already done that," Fraser said.

Ray looked up. "Done what?"

"Made a list of hotels on the east side that have twenty-four hour check-in," said Kowalski. "I was about to start that..."

"This is ridiculous," Ray said. He went over to Kowalski's desk with Dief at his heels. "Get up."

"What did I do?" Kowalski asked defensively.

"Nothing. Get up."

Fraser stood and pulled his chair back, and Kowalski did the same, looking distrustful.

Ray took hold of Kowalski's desk. "Grab the other end."

"Ray," said Fraser.

"Not now, Benny."

Kowalski still looked uncertain, but he moved to the far end of the desk.

"But Ray—"

"We're just gonna move it..." Ray started to pull the desk toward himself.

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because Ray will need to unplug his computer. If he does that right now, he'll lose the information he's been working on."

Ray leaned on the desk. "Oh, right. Why didn't you say so?"

* * *

Ray smiled to himself, remembering the desk-moving incident as he pulled up in front of Kowalski's apartment. It had been the first time anyone tried rearranging the layout of the bullpen in years—maybe decades. But it proved to be a good decision. He and Kowalski were able to share their findings more efficiently, the proximity forced them to be cooperative with each other for danger of killing one another, and it allowed them to discreetly plan their first supply closet tryst. He hadn't seen a downside so far.

* * *

 _Well, this one was fun to write. ^^ Hope it was fun to read, too. Let me know._


	6. Coffee

_Hey, thanks for reading; hope you like the new chapter._

* * *

Six: Coffee

Ray didn't know what to expect when he opened his door to Vecchio, but he quickly relaxed when he saw that his guest seemed calm. "Sorry about the mess," he said.

Vecchio shook his head. "It's fine. It's all yours... must be nice. No waiting on sisters in the bathroom, no listening to your mom telling you you should eat better..."

"Well, my mom does come over now and then to iron my shirts," Ray admitted.

"Ah, I should have known the lack of wrinkles wasn't your doing," Vecchio said with a laugh.

"Want some coffee?"

"Sure."

Ray felt a little self-conscious as Vecchio watched him drop a few M&Ms into his coffee. "Don't judge," he muttered.

"Hey, we've all got our little indulgences." He smirked at Ray. "You're one of mine..."

Ray smiled a little, looking away to hide the blush he could feel creeping over his face.

"So, I was thinking: let's not talk about work. We don't talk about this at work, we don't talk about work when we're... doing this."

Ray nodded. "Agreed."

"Good." Vecchio tried his coffee. "Hey, this isn't bad."

"Doesn't take much to beat the coffee we're used to. I wish Francesca would make cappuccino every day."

"...And let's not talk about my sister, either."

Ray laughed. "Sorry." He sat beside Vecchio at the bar. "So... you see the game last night?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I was surprised."

"Uh-huh. But then again..."

"I know."

They fell silent.

"Okay," Vecchio said, halfway through his coffee. "We need to find something to talk about, or else this isn't going to be 'friends with benefits.' It's just gonna be 'acquaintances with benefits.'"

Ray laughed a little nervously. He was glad that Vecchio wanted to put effort into actually becoming friends, but he didn't know how to accomplish that. "Um... we both like cars."

"True... but I'm kind of a one-car guy."

"That's okay. You don't have to drive the GTO or let me drive the Riv or even look at freaking magazines if you don't want to, but if you need something replaced, I'm your guy. I can help you find parts and put 'em in for you."

"Yeah?" Vecchio nodded slowly. "That sounds good. The GTO is pretty sweet, by the way. They're good cars."

Ray smiled. "Yeah. Love the sound of that engine."

"I bet Fraser won't let you open 'er up much, though."

"You got that right. He's like a grandma. 'You didn't come to a full stop! You're exceeding the speed limit by a dangerous margin!'"

Vecchio laughed. "That's him. 'You made a turn without indicating.'"

"Oh, god, yes. And he can barely drive, himself."

"I can't believe he's licensed."

Ray drank some more coffee, smiling.

"Oh, hey, I have an idea," Vecchio said. "How about we go over to Hawthorne sometime?"

"Hawthorne?"

"You know, the racetrack."

"Horse racing?"

"Sure. My dad used to take me now and then. I haven't been in years."

"Okay... do we tell Fraser?"

"I doubt he'd want to come. He doesn't look kindly on gambling, even the legal kind. And he'd probably have something to say about the treatment of the horses."

"Why, is it bad?"

"Nah. I mean, you have to look at the pros and cons. Some people treat their horses better than others, but that's true of regular horses too, not just racehorses."

"Hm. Well, when would you want to go?"

"How about Saturday?"

Ray nodded. "Works for me." He finished his coffee. Suddenly, he felt a little nervous again.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah," Ray said, smiling sheepishly.

Vecchio stood up and took Ray by the wrist. "Come here."

Ray moved into the familiar confines of his superior's embrace. It was weird to have so much light around them. The feel of firm hands on his back was reassuring. He closed his eyes as their lips met.

Having no fear of interruption removed the jumpiness, but it also removed the necessity to keep the encounter brief. He pushed the uncertainty back and focused on Vecchio's arms around him, the tongue working its way into his mouth, the taste of coffee and smell of aftershave. He reached up to the stiff velvet of close-cropped hair, pulling Vecchio closer.

Vecchio tugged Ray's shirt up a little, teasing the inch of bare skin with his fingertips. When Ray pulled away to get more air, he dropped his head to caress Ray's neck. He tugged the shirt up further, exploring more confidently.

Ray was panting now. He continued to push away his worries as each touch excited him more. He stole a glance across the room, wondering if it would be worth interrupting to turn off the light. He was about to say something when Vecchio spoke.

"I was wondering... do you have any limits in mind? You know, lines you won't cross?"

"Uh..." _I should have thought of this before... why didn't I?_ "Not really..."

"Well, if you should run into one of those, let me know, okay?"

"Okay. Can, uh... can I get the light?"

Vecchio smiled. "Sure."

Ray tried to focus moment by moment. _Get to the light switch, get back over there,_ he told himself. He made his way back to Vecchio carefully, relieved when he felt the arms encircle him again. _How can something feel so dangerous and so safe at the same time?_

* * *

 _It's getting a little more serious. If I'm not careful, there will be a plot, soon.  
_


	7. Caution

_It's getting hot in here... probably time to switch it to that M rating...  
_

* * *

Seven: Caution

Ray could tell that Kowalski hadn't thought this through. If he'd decided where he would draw the line, he couldn't bring himself to say so. Even though Kowalski was only a year his junior, Ray couldn't help thinking of him as significantly younger than himself, in terms of experience if nothing else.

That was one of the reasons he was being so careful, watching for any sign that the man in his arms was uncomfortable, or even uncertain. He enjoyed slipping his hands under Kowalski's shirt, running them over the smooth skin, but he planned on going no further until he felt reciprocation. Kowalski's hands were at his collar, loosening his tie, carefully slipping it off. He pulled out of their kiss to allow more room, and Kowalski took the opportunity to begin unfastening his buttons.

Once he was out of his button-down shirt, Ray pulled Kowalski's T-shirt up higher than before, and was gratified when it came off a moment later. Then Kowalski was pulling up Ray's undershirt, and soon it was discarded as well.

There. All the skin he couldn't get to before because there wasn't time—it wasn't safe—now, he tried to touch every inch of it. Kowalski's chest hair was sparser than his, which he preferred. He was a little surprised that Kowalski seemed just as eager to touch him. He took Kowalski by the neck and kissed him again, finding a little competition this time as their tongues slid over one another.

Good as this was, Ray didn't lose his head. Didn't let himself believe that his partner was as confident as himself; he might simply be rising to the occasion and in danger of regretting it later. He pulled away again.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Kowalski panted.

Ray smiled and brought their foreheads together. "Nice. Now, think about it before you answer. Are you okay?"

Kowalski panted, swallowed, panted more shallowly. He nodded.

"Think you might want to go further, or is this good for now?" He'd been careful to word it in such a way that Kowalski had to think about his answer, and would find it just as easy to keep things at this level as to go on, if not more so.

After a moment, Kowalski said, "We can keep going. It's cool."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Okay." Ray leaned in to kiss Kowalski's throat, running his hands over his back, letting his right hand work lower... and lower.

Kowalski was giving all the signs of encouragement: tilting his chin back, continuously moving his hands over Ray's arms and shoulders, giving little gasps here and there.

Ray's hand continued down. _Damn, why is denim so thick?_ But he could still tell that Kowalski had nice, tight buttocks (who wouldn't, after chasing Fraser up so many fire escapes?), and there was something about the rough fabric that made him determined not to be bested by it. He was getting some good little noises out of Kowalski at this point; that was satisfying.

Then he noticed the mimicking. Newbies inevitably ended up copying him. They weren't sure what to do next, so they played follow the leader. He could feel Kowalski's hand going down his back, over his hip, hesitating, starting over his rump.

He uttered a soft moan, not because he couldn't help it, but because he was acting a part again. He was letting the newbie know he was doing something right. He tried leaning down to lay a few kisses on Kowalski's chest, and a little later, Kowalski did the same to him. It was an awkward phase, but if he didn't let on, it wouldn't be awkward for both of them. Then, when Kowalski had more experience, he'd stop copy-catting and maybe even get creative. He could bide his time.

He kissed his way up Kowalski's neck, pausing to lick and lightly suck from time to time, all the while moving one hand over Kowalski's chest. He felt the other man stiffen when his fingers brushed over a nipple. He wasn't trying to stop, but he'd pulled away a little, barely noticeably.

"Getting hard?" Ray whispered his guess. He felt Kowalski's face getting hot against his. "It's okay. Do you want to stop?"

Kowalski was quiet for a while, their breathing the only sound in the room. He nodded.

"Okay. No worries." Ray kissed his lips softly. "Thanks for letting me come over. It was fun."

"Yeah... thanks for... coming over," Kowalski answered.

"How about next time we have some music?" Ray suggested. "You got an eight-track?"

"Do I have an eight-track?" Kowalski repeated with a laugh. "Dude, I have a friggin' record player." He crossed the room to turn the light back on.

Ray chuckled. "Okay, I'll bring a record next time." He picked up his undershirt and pulled it on.

"When's next time?"

"Mm... I can't do this all the time or Ma will start asking questions. How about Thursday, day after tomorrow?"

"Thursday. Sure."

"All right." Ray shrugged into his shirt, quickly buttoned it and retied his tie. Once his shirt was tucked in, he went to the door. He turned back to give Kowalski's face a pat. "See you tomorrow, kid."

"Good night," Kowalski answered.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading. Comment if you feel like it. No pressure. lol  
_


	8. Guilty Pleasure

_I'm really struggling not to add a story plot to the character development plot, because I want to keep the chapters short and manageable. Hence the lack of details about the case they're working, etc.  
_

* * *

Eight: Guilty Pleasure

Ray closed the door and counted to ten before locking it. His left cheek felt warm where Vecchio had last touched him.

"Oh, my god," he whispered. _That was so embarrassing..._

But Vecchio hadn't made fun of him—hadn't even teased him. He'd been very... nice? kind? Patient. Ray had liked to think they were equals in all this, but after tonight it was clear that he was out of his depth. It was time to accept that.

Not that he was about to call it quits. Hell, no. He needed this. He had been desperate for human contact, but not realized it before this started.

He went into the bathroom and ran the shower while he got undressed. He still felt tight and had decided to take advantage of what Vecchio had aroused.

When the temperature was right, he stepped into the shower and ran his hands down his own body, reaching for whatever his imagination would give him. All too often, it had been Stella; she accounted for the majority of his sexual experiences. But tonight, she didn't seem to fit his mood, and neither did any of the other women he'd had his eye on since their divorce. Tonight, it was his memory that urged him on. The fresh memories of Vecchio's hands on him, his lips, his tongue...

Ray leaned on one forearm against the shower wall as his breath became short and his knees began to feel weak. He'd been afraid to go as far as he was going in his mind now, but here he could see how things might play out. How he might not hate it if Vecchio touched him like this. He might like it. Might like it a lot.

The one hitch that threatened to turn him off before he finished was that it felt weird to murmur his own name to his imagined lover. And using his last name seemed so impersonal. With these thoughts came the realization that they didn't tend to say each other's names much when they made out.

 _Never mind,_ he told himself, focusing again on what his hand was doing between his legs. He would remember the smell of Vecchio's cologne, the timbre of his voice and the feel of his fingers that had sent blood rushing to his groin such a short time ago. He moaned softly as he imagined that it was Vecchio's hand on him, that the other man was standing behind him, pressed against him...

He gasped and crumpled against the shower wall, swearing under his ragged breath. _This is insane. I'm insane._ But insane or not, he wanted his fantasy to come true. Thursday couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

Ray's alarm woke him the next morning. He reached for it with a stream of curse words. He had not slept well.

In the light of a new day, he wasn't sure which was more humiliating: the fact that his superior had him wrapped around his finger, or the fact that he'd jacked off to him after he left.

 _I need to get a girl friend. This is getting pathetic._

He bothered to put on a button-down shirt that day before pouring himself a cup of coffee. He dropped a few candies into it to cut the bitterness, remembering Vecchio's comment of the night before. _He called me an indulgence._ In other words, a guilty pleasure. That was exactly what this was.

Vecchio was already at the precinct when Ray arrived, but he wasn't late. He had expected things to be awkward again, but the familiar surroundings helped him settle into his usual routine. When Fraser came by a few hours later, everything seemed normal.

"Benny, I was hoping you could give us a hand with something," Vecchio told him. "I've got a composite sketch from the descriptions we got of the suspect, but I thought maybe you could touch it up a little."

"I'll certainly give it a try," Fraser answered.

In the space of a few minutes, the Mountie had made the sketch look much more life-like.

Ray shook his head as he admired the reworked sketch. "Damn... that's amazing."

"Would you mind taking that around with him?" Vecchio asked Fraser. "Someone might recognize it. We don't have a lot of leads."

"I'd be glad to," Fraser said, always happy to help.

"Thanks." He looked at Ray. "Call me if you find anything. And if you don't, check in every hour or so."

"Got it," Ray said, getting out from behind his desk. He was a little disappointed that they hadn't gotten away to the supply closet that day, but maybe it was for the best. Getting out of the office would do him some good.

As he was driving them to the neighborhood where the crime had taken place, Fraser said, "You seem a bit agitated."

"Agitated?" Ray repeated. "In what sense?"

"I'm not sure. You've just seemed unable to focus lately. I thought you'd been getting along well with Ray, but... might this have something to do with him?"

"Ray? No..."

"You're deflecting."

"What do you mean, deflecting?"

"Whenever you don't want to give me a straight answer, you turn what I asked into a question of your own."

"I do?"

"You just did it again."

"Oh... shit."

"I don't know why you're so worried, but let me assure you that you don't have to withhold anything from me. Ray is my friend, but so are you. If there's something wrong, I want to help."

Ray drove a few blocks before he said, "Nothing's wrong between me and Vecchio. If there were, wouldn't he be acting 'agitated' or something, too?"

After some more silence, Fraser answered, "I can't help feeling that that's another deflection."

Ray sighed. "Look, we're okay. I promise. Satisfied?"

"For now, I suppose."

* * *

 _Poor Fraser... Too insightful for his own good. Comments still welcome (but please don't flame). ~Steel  
_


	9. Stereotypes

_Change of pace here, but back to the main idea soon.  
_

* * *

Nine: Stereotypes

Ray offered to take Fraser and Diefenbaker out for some dinner after work Wednesday, and the offer was accepted.

"You don't think Ray will mind not coming along?" Fraser asked in the Riviera.

"Nah, he's fine," Ray answered. He wanted to appear friendly with Kowalski for Fraser's sake but he also didn't want to spend much time with him outside work. It was a precarious game he was playing.

"You two have been getting along, I hope?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"All right. I just thought something was bothering him today."

"I think he missed a dose of coffee or something. He'll probably be back to normal tomorrow. As normal as he gets."

"You're sure nothing's wrong?"

He was certainly suspicious today; Ray decided to step up his reassurances. "I'm sure. Matter of fact, I'm planning to take him to Hawthorne Saturday. The racetrack. You could come if you want, but I figured you wouldn't care to."

"Thank you, but no. Much as I enjoy seeing good horsemanship, it's not quite my cup of tea. Besides, it's no place for Diefenbaker; he could only get into mischief in a place like that."

Dief barked in protest.

"Hey, he's right," Ray said. "Last thing we need is you chasing hundred-thousand-dollar, twelve-hundred-pound animals around. Not to mention the junk food at a place like that."

Dief had to wait outside while Ray and Fraser ate dinner, but Fraser promised to bring him some leftovers.

Their conversation covered a wide range of topics, as it always did. On this occasion, it was why fish and chips is called fish and chips, how the potato chip was accidentally invented, the myth that NASA had overspent their budget to develop a pen that would write in space while Russian astronauts merely used a pencil, eastern European geography, followed by Ray Kowalski's apparent Polish heritage of which he never spoke as opposed to Ray's Italian heritage which was significant in his life...

"People don't understand what it means to be Italian," Ray said. "They look at an Italian and they usually think one of two things: mobster or opera singer."

"I'm sure the average citizen isn't quite so narrow-minded," Fraser said.

"I'm simplifying, Fraser. It's a tough guy like Al Capone, or it's a classy singing, dancing wine connoisseur. And both are Catholic, at least in name."

"But that's incorrect?"

"Well, sure. Some of them are tough guys like Capone. Some of them are good singers and dancers. Some of them can tell good wine from the cheap stuff, and yeah, they're predominantly Catholic. But you've been to my house. You look at us, what do you think it means to be Italian?"

Fraser tilted his head to the side. "If I had only you and your family to go by," he said slowly, "I would say that being Italian means being outspoken and affectionate."

Ray pointed at him. "You see! You get it. Outspoken and affectionate. I like that. That's me. Of course... if you'd seen some of the mobsters I was dealing with in Vegas... whew. Throw them into the mix and you get something else, lemme tell you."

"Such as?"

"Well, take Nero. Nero's a big guy. A butler-slash-bodyguard. He keeps to his corner, doesn't say much, does what he's told, but whenever he does have to talk, it's always... pleasant. Not 'cause he's a happy guy, but because he wants to keep his job. So, I say, 'Nero! How come my Chardonnay is gone?' And he says, 'Oh, the Sauvignon is much better, anyway. Here, boss, you want the Sauvignon.' And he tops off my glass. You see how that works? That's diplomacy. Nero's not too bright in general, but he knows how to keep a man in power happy."

"I follow."

"So, you've got me and my family, and now you've got Nero. Now, what does it mean to be Italian?"

Fraser took longer to answer this time. "Opinionated, but tactful."

"Right! That's what you'd get if Nero were a Vecchio. But the more of these guys I throw in there, the more things would shift. Eventually, you'd start saying that being Italian means being sarcastic, witty and seductive. Or, cruel, asinine and positive."

"Can one be cruel and positive?"

"Oh, definitely. Like, 'Sorry, Marco, I no longer have a use for you. But on the bright side, I'll no longer have to pay your exorbitant fee!'"

"Who was Marco?"

"I'm speaking hypothetically, Fraser. Marco wasn't anyone real. Well, he was real, but I didn't have him killed."

"Who _did_ you have killed?"

"No, no... you _do_ know what 'hypothetically' means, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, even if, _hypothetically,_ I _did_ have someone killed, there's no way I'd be allowed to tell you. Something like that would be top secret."

Fraser stared at him with eyes as innocent as a lamb's.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"That."

Fraser looked away, blinking in confusion.

"Ay-yai-yai. You really take stuff too seriously. My point is, stereotypes come from somewhere, but you can only use them as a jumping-off point. You can't get stuck in them."

"Ah. So, to parallel your examples, you can look at the statistics of maple syrup produced in Canada and conclude that the average Canadian probably knows more about syrup production than the average American, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all Canadians like syrup."

"Of course, they do. Who doesn't like syrup?"

"Well, I was being hypothetical, Ray."

"Eh, I'm not sure you're getting it. Check, please!"

* * *

After dropping Fraser off, Ray's thoughts turned back to Kowalski. They hadn't worked together very closely that day, and hadn't managed to get in a closet liaison. That was all right, though; all things in moderation. At least Fraser was satisfied that they were getting along, and had gotten to spend time with each of them. They were less like angry divorced parents communicating through their child and more like divorced parents trying to patch things up for the kid's sake. He smirked to himself. Somehow, it wouldn't surprise him if Fraser never stopped being the kid in these similes.

Now he would go home, shower, press a suit for tomorrow and go to bed. And tomorrow... well, tomorrow night should be interesting. He needed to pick out a record.

* * *

 _Nothing steamy this time, but I wanted a more show-like chapter with more Fraser footage. I've got it out of my system now. ^_-  
_


	10. Scotch And Jazz

_More Kowalski POV. Enjoy.  
_

* * *

Ten: Scotch And Jazz

Ray purposefully kept his attention on his work Thursday, and managed to make progress on the case. He got some of the legwork out of the way while Vecchio handled the paper trail, and then they discussed their findings with Fraser over lunch. Other than a minor tiff with Francesca and some trash talk with Dewey, he got through the work day with success.

Then it was time to wrap things up and go home, and Fraser asked if he'd like to get dinner with him.

 _Crap..._ "Um... not tonight, Fraser," Ray said, searching for an excuse. "Tomorrow, maybe. Could you do tomorrow?" Maybe the question would be distraction enough.

"I think so," Fraser answered.

"I can drop you off somewhere if you want, though."

Vecchio kept his eyes glued to his computer screen, as if deep in concentration.

After glancing at his other friend, Fraser said, "Thank you, I'd appreciate a ride back to the consulate."

 _Okay. So far, so good._ "Sure. No problem."

On their way to the consulate, Fraser asked, "Are you going to be busy tonight?"

 _Here we go again with the questions._ "Um, kind of..." He suddenly thought of something. "And I'm planning to go by the bank tomorrow, so I'll see what kind of budget I have. Ray's taking me to the races Saturday, so I want to make sure I have some cash for that."

"Ah, I see. It's a good idea to plan ahead. If you don't risk money you need for paying bills, gambling won't land you in trouble."

"Exactly."

He felt relieved when he said good night to Fraser at the consulate and turned for home. Vecchio might beat him there this time.

* * *

Sure enough, the Riviera was in the parking lot when Ray arrived. Vecchio got out and joined him, the promised record under his arm. Now that he wasn't trying not to look, Ray thought he looked extra sharp today. He hoped that choosing khakis and a button-down shirt that morning had saved him from looking too sloppy in comparison.

He bore the awkward silence until they reached their floor, then asked, "Who did you bring?"

"Peggy Lee," Vecchio answered, showing the album cover.

"Fever. Nice." Ray unlocked his door, ushered his guest inside, and locked it again behind them. "You want a drink or something?" He turned on the kitchen light, leaving the rest of the apartment dim.

"Do you have scotch?"

"I think so." He went to the cupboard and soon found half a bottle of single malt scotch. By the time he brought it to the bar, Vecchio had already found tumblers in another cupboard. "You pour," he said, not trusting himself not to show his nerves through a shaking hand.

Vecchio didn't question him. He poured half a glass for each of them before screwing the bottle top back on. "Toast?"

"It's almost the weekend," Ray said, picking up his tumbler. He knew it was a lame toast, but couldn't think of anything more profound at the moment.

Vecchio took up his tumbler too, but paused. "To living in the moment," he said, touching his glass to Ray's.

Ray nodded. "Cheers."

 _"Salute."_

They drank, and Vecchio smiled in appreciation. "You pick a decent scotch," he said.

"Pure luck," Ray admitted. "I'm not exactly... you know, a refined palate."

"Eh, it just takes a little experience. And, truth be told, the cheap stuff is usually almost as good. Where's the record player?"

"Over here."

Ray showed Vecchio the player and he put the record on, adjusting the volume so the smooth jazz was an unintrusive background.

"They don't make music like this anymore," Vecchio commented, going to lean on the back of the sofa, glass in hand.

"No, they sure don't," Ray agreed. "There's something about records, too... I don't know. It just sounds better somehow."

"I think so, too."

Ray closed his eyes to listen for a moment, nearly beginning to sway to the music. He opened his eyes. "Do you dance?"

"Not much. Used to. Wasn't known for being that great at it," Vecchio admitted. "But there was this girl... used to dance with her, no matter how much I humiliated myself." He smiled a little. "When you manage to get it right, or at least not do too bad, and you're really into the person you're dancing with, there's nothing like it."

"Mm." Ray moved closer to Vecchio and leaned on the sofa beside him. "What happened to her?"

"She died... you'd have read about her in my file. Name was Irene Zuko."

"Oh... yeah, I remember. I'm sorry."

"Me, too." Vecchio took another sip of his scotch. "Sometimes I think she was 'the one' and I blew it... screwed everything up. Other times I think there's someone else out there. I dunno."

Ray eyed his glass. "I think either you need more scotch, or we need to change the subject."

Vecchio smiled slightly. "Yeah, you're right. I told Fraser about Hawthorne. He didn't want to come."

"So, we're good. Mind if I drive us?"

"Do you know the way?"

"No... but since we're going to the races, we might as well take a racecar, right?"

"Okay, I can't argue with that. You drive, I'll navigate."

"Cool."

The title song came on then, and Ray thought he could feel the mood shift. He finished his scotch.

Vecchio drained his tumbler and handed it to Ray.

Ray felt Vecchio's eyes on him as he walked back to the sink with the glasses, and definitely caught a glint in them when he was on his way back.

To the sound of snapping fingers, well-placed drums, bass and a silky female voice, Ray slipped into Vecchio's arms. The familiar scent of his aftershave along with the taste of scotch had an intoxicating effect that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

 _"Fever... with his kisses, fever when he holds me tight..."_

It didn't take long for his pulse to run high—or for Vecchio to begin working on his buttons. This time, he wouldn't tap out.

* * *

 _Oh, sorry... steamy cliff-hanger. Don't let the condensation make you lose your grip. xD  
_


	11. Control

_If you have any innocence left, this is a good time to abandon the story, just FYI. It's not terribly explicit, but still. This is lime, I guess.  
_

* * *

Eleven: Control

Ray could tell that the wait had done Kowalski good. He seemed more confident now: less shy to take his shirt off, more ready to take initiative, his touch a little more steady. All good signs.

They covered familiar ground at first, but Ray thought they were ready to step things up. He slipped his leg between Kowalski's, putting a little pressure on the inside of his thigh. Kowalski had been busily kissing Ray's neck, and he faltered only a moment before going on. So far, so good. He worked his hands down Kowalski's back, over his belt and kept going. He sensed no reluctance or resistance, so he began to grip and caress by turns. The khaki pants were easier to work with than the usual bluejeans.

Kowalski's breath caught, but he pulled closer rather than moving away. Ray could feel an unmistakable firmness against his thigh now, so he pressed forward with his own growing erection, getting a quiet moan from his companion.

This was a fun stage, when the newbie was just getting confident. But Ray had to make sure he didn't let things get out of hand. After all, this was a valuable suit he was wearing. When Kowalski began to grind against him, he pushed him back gently with a kiss. "Easy," he said in a low voice. "This is a good way to ruin good clothes. You got condoms?"

"Um... yeah..." Kowalski's face felt warm, but the dim light hid his blush.

Ray kissed his jaw. "Okay. Go find 'em. I can wait."

They could just take the clothes off, of course, but he didn't think they were ready for that. Skipping intermediate steps of intimacy might cause a crash-and-burn situation. Taking their time might mean they could keep up their trysts much longer.

Kowalski opted to bring the condom box back with him and set it on an end table, letting Ray help himself. He thought this was a decent plan; even though they probably wouldn't need more than one apiece, they had options. He had brought his own along, but hadn't wanted to use them unless it was absolutely necessary, because it might imply that he'd made assumptions about what they would be doing. He had, of course, but it wouldn't help Kowalski to know that.

"Thanks. Where's your bathroom?"

Kowalski pointed it out and he took his condom inside to put it on, leaving the door slightly ajar. The pseudo-privacy would make Kowalski feel a little more comfortable, as would being able to hear him zipping up to announce that he was done. He waited until he heard Kowalski finish before he did; then he went back into the living room.

"Are you totally turned off yet?" Ray asked with a smile.

Kowalski laughed. "No."

"Good. Then we can pick up where we left off?"

He nodded.

Ray reached out to him, moving his hands over Kowalski's smooth skin. He might not be a slick dresser, but what was underneath made up for it. Ray could tell he was toned from years of dedication to various demanding activities, not just working out at a gym. It had been difficult to stay in shape in Las Vegas, especially with everyone expecting him to leave manual labor to his underlings, but he had done his best. Kowalski seemed pleased enough, though, eagerly touching every inch of him.

As Kowalski kissed along his shoulder, Ray tilted his head to lick at his ear, at the same time bringing their hips together again. Kowalski gasped, but he still didn't back down. Ray felt strong hands gripping his backside and pulling him closer. This time their groins connected directly, and Ray guided them into slow, rhythmic thrusts.

Most of his male partners hadn't dared to hold him like this. Langoustini was the boss, and the boss liked to control everything. But even though he technically _was_ Kowalski's boss, the dynamic was much more equal this time. This was what had been missing. It was a little unnerving to finally not have total control, but he thought he liked it.

Kowalski was starting to mix a little bit of colorful language into his heavy breathing, almost too quiet for Ray to make out. He decided it was time for a status check. "Everything okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah... everything's good," Kowalski said breathily.

His skin was hot under Ray's hands, and they were both beginning to perspire. Ray decided to let him finish soon, to save him a little performance anxiety, if nothing else. He thrust a little more quickly while licking his way down Kowalski's throat.

Kowalski responded with more and more needy thrusting until he all but froze, moaning in Ray's ear. Ray quickly adjusted their position, pressing his hip into Kowalski's groin so he could touch himself without losing contact. He kissed Kowalski's breathless mouth while he worked toward his own climax, finally getting there and leaning against Kowalski's chest for support. He had to put his hand out to the back of the couch for additional stability, as they were both a little wobbly and very out of breath.

Also unlike any of his male partners from Vegas, Kowalski didn't seem in any hurry to let go of him now that they were done. If anything, he seemed more clingy than before, continuing to softly caress Ray's skin.

"Thank you," Ray whispered.

"Yeah... thanks," Kowalski echoed. He moved away slowly, not meeting Ray's eyes.

"You go ahead and clean up," Ray suggested. "I'll wait for you."

"Okay."

This part he didn't normally do with men. Usually it was "Okay, now get out." But this time, he was the guest. The pleasure hadn't been a bribe, a payment or an apology; it had been filling a mutual need.

Ray grabbed his undershirt and went to the bar to get himself a glass of water. The real problem now, he decided, was making sure he didn't start caring too much. That was the only way to keep them both safe.

* * *

 _It's been a while since I wrote something this steamy... hope it worked.  
_


End file.
